


Higher Learning

by _backpages_ (backpages)



Category: Banlieue 13 (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backpages/pseuds/_backpages_
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geography, Ancient History, and the International Language with Leïto and Damien. (Or the one where Leïto and Damien compare old scars.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Higher Learning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spatz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spatz/gifts).



Up, and over, and around, then slowly down again.  Leïto’s hands map new routes over familiar contours, palms spreading to span broad planes of muscle, then curving over the sharp peak of a shoulder blade.  Damien shivers but doesn’t move as Leïto’s fingers dip into the valleys between his ribs and slip down to settle at the ridge of his hipbone.

 

‘What about this one?’ asks Leïto, touching the small circle of puckered skin just above the bone.  In the dim lamplight the scar is barely visible, just a pale smudge beneath his fingertips.

 

Damien is quiet for a moment, thinking.  ‘That’s from my third assignment,’ he remembers then.  ‘I was undercover with an arms dealer, a real headcase.  Never met a problem he couldn’t solve with an AK-47.   We busted him in the end but some rookie got an itchy finger during the extraction and started a shoot-out.’

 

That doesn’t surprise Leïto, though he feels a stab of anger on Damien’s behalf.  ‘Friendly fire?’

 

Damien shakes his head.  ‘No, just a ricochet.  I was lucky, the bullet went clean through.’

 

_Lucky._   Leïto frowns a little at the seemingly insignificant scar.  Had the bullet struck just a fraction higher, or at a slightly different angle… Damien’s voice shakes him out of a sudden vivid vision of pooling blood and blue eyes clouding with pain.

 

‘My turn.’  Damien nudges Leïto onto his back and leans over him, peering intently down at the scars mingled with the ink on his body.   He takes his time, letting his fingers ghost over each tattoo before smoothing his palms down Leïto’s sides and back up to his shoulders again.  Damien’s hands are warm and callused and Leïto has to will himself not to arch into their touch.  Instead he lies perfectly still, watching Damien’s eyes and the little furrow that always appears between his brows when he is concentrating.

 

Finally Damien curls a hand around Leïto’s wrist, lifting it and shifting closer to examine a thin, jagged line along the underside of his forearm.  ‘What happened here?’

 

Leïto cringes inwardly at the memory but he’s growing used to Damien knowing his secrets and he doesn’t hesitate to answer.  ‘Remember the tunnel under Taha’s place?’ he asks.

 

‘The one you dug with your teeth?’ teases Damien with a sly grin.

 

Leïto nods, smiling slightly in spite of himself.  ‘The first time I used it I didn’t know where I would end up.  I came out in an alley, thought it was clear, but K2 and some friends were conducting business right outside.  I had to make a run for it and wound up going through a closed window.’

 

Damien winces and lets go of Leïto’s arm, his grin fading.  ‘So not one of your best plans, then,’ he observes dryly.

 

‘I’ve had better,’ admits Leïto, remembering the scolding from Lola that had stung worse than her stitching the wound.  Before Damien can decide he needs another lecture about taking foolish risks Leïto spreads a palm against his chest and pushes him back into the pillows.  ‘My turn again.’

 

Damien waits patiently, unmoving, though Leïto can feel muscle tensing beneath his hands and see an unmistakable flush rising along the curve of Damien’s throat.  This time his questing fingers find a scar he’s never noticed before on Damien’s right side, nearly hidden in the crease between two ribs.  It looks like it might be another bullet wound, only shallow, like a graze.

 

Leïto traces the scar lightly with the tip of his thumb.  ‘What’s this?  Did you get shot again?’

 

‘Not exactly,’ says Damien, and something in his voice makes Leïto look sharply at his face.  ‘Some asshole left me handcuffed to a busted up van in the middle of gang territory, and the locals decided to do a little target practice,’ he explains.  ‘I caught some shrapnel on the way out.’

 

Now it’s Leïto’s turn to shiver.  He mostly tries not to think too closely about some of his own actions the day they met, about how easily he might have cost himself the best thing that’s ever happened in his life.  He starts to speak but he’s never been good at apologies and Damien doesn’t seem to want one.

 

‘It all worked out in the end,’ he continues before Leïto can say anything.  ‘The asshole saved my life the same day.’

 

Leïto swallows hard, pushing the memories from his mind and looking down at Damien, warm and solid and very much alive.  ‘Guess the asshole’s not all bad then,’ he says softly.

 

Damien’s eyes meet his, no longer blue but dark in the way that never fails to make Leïto’s pulse stutter.  ‘He has a few good qualities.  I might keep him around for a while.’

 

Leïto doesn’t miss the weight behind the words and the little knot of guilt in his chest eases enough for him to echo Damien’s light tone.  ‘Good plan.’

 

‘I thought so,’ says Damien, and when he stretches up to join their mouths Leïto is already bending to meet him.

 

Damien’s arms close around him, one hand curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, and Leïto’s breath leaves him with a sigh.  It’s still unsettling how easy it always is to yield to Damien’s touch, how quickly he is undone by a single kiss.  Leïto would be embarrassed except that he can feel Damien shaking and the frantic beat of his pulse as Leïto’s mouth dips to the hollow of his throat.  Even now there is a kind of desperation that lingers in the nights they spend together, a hunger that neither of them can quite control.

 

Leïto doesn’t bother to try, sliding both arms around Damien and pulling him closer.  His hands find another scar on Damien’s shoulder, another story he has yet to hear, but that will have to wait because Damien is rolling them to pin Leïto beneath him, melding their bodies together and kissing him until they’re both gasping.  There will be no more talking tonight.

 


End file.
